In bed that night Peter thought about the successful meeting the Secret Seven had had that day. He and Janet were to clean out the stables in return for shelter for Mr Tolly's horse. The others would do their share of stable-cleaning too. Bob was to be an errand-boy ... and they could take turns with him, if he wished. There must also be quite a bit of money in the money-boxes belonging to the Secret Seven. That would help to pay for fodder for Mr Tolly's horse. He would need something more than grass to eat...
Peter's thoughts grew muddled, and he found himself drifting off to sleep. He was happy. His worries about Mr Tolly and his horse began to fade, and his eyes closed in sleep. His last thoughts were of money-boxes ... he must tell the members to open ... their ... to open their ... money-boxes. Yes, their money-boxes! And then, with his thoughts getting all twisted up, he slid into dreams ... queer dreams in which Mr Tolly, dressed as a little horse, ran about delivering medicine bottles to all the cows in his father's field!
Next morning Peter and Janet set off with Scamper to find Mr Tolly in his little tumbledown cottage on the side of the hill. He must be told the good news ... that the Secret Seven were going to earn money to pay Mr Whistler's bills. Then he wouldn't worry any more about having to sell his brown and white horse.
There was the little cottage, whitewashed, leaning against the hill. Down in the valley below were flocks of sheep, every nose touching the grass in the meadow as they fed. Playing round them was Codger, a nice but ugly little mongrel dog, who thought his master was the finest man he had ever seen!
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"Mr Tolly isn't with the sheep," said Janet, looking down the hill. "He must still be in his cottage. Let's go and see."
As soon as the little mongrel dog saw the children going towards his master's cottage, he came tearing up the hill at top speed, barking fiercely. Who was this, daring to go to his master's house? He barked round their ankles, and Janet was a little scared.
"Don't take any notice of his barking," said Peter. "He's only behaving like a good little watchdog. Come on, little dog ... take us to your master!"
Tolly wasn't in his cottage. The children knocked and knocked, and finally tried the door. It opened. They peeped inside. The cottage was trim and neat and clean. Old Tolly couldn't keep it like that himself, surely! They went round to the back, where there was a small garden with a vegetable plot, and a washing-line. Taking down a sheet was a thin little women.
"Hallo!" said Peter, surprised to see a woman there. "Is Mr Tolly in?"
"No, he's gone to do his shopping," said the little woman. "Look, isn't that him coming up the hill? Run and take that heavy bag from him. I've just finished his washing."
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